


i want to taste you again, like a secret or a sin

by fracturedvaels



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 22:41:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4895053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fracturedvaels/pseuds/fracturedvaels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh and Chris start over somewhere new. It's hard - but they have each other, and their quiet moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i want to taste you again, like a secret or a sin

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written smut in almost a year, I think.
> 
> This is part of a... potentially longer canon au that has Jess/Emily. For now, here's your Climbing Class smut. 
> 
> The song from the title - and the song I suggest you listen to during the smutty parts - is "Only You" by Matthew Perryman Jones. The apartments that are featured here - sort of - are the Terraces at Manchester. Some liberties taken with both them and Richmond itself.

Josh is faded.

He's grey where he once was a light brown, his eyes seem dead in their sockets. And he stares, mostly, out of the window; the world seems bleaker now. Every day that it wasn't raining it felt too sterile, too bright, like the reflective white of a hospital room.

The world revolved around Josh. Or, Chris' world did. He centered himself firmly and there was little Chris or Josh could do about it.

But Chris soldiered on. It was enough, getting past the mountain and the lodge and the wendigos. Getting past Ashley and how they realized life-or-death situations didn't always make for a happy ever after. Getting past Sam's death, and Mike's disappearance. Getting past Emily and Matt's first kid, and their break up, and Jess's refusal to leave the mountain.

These were problems for other days. For now, the focus was on Josh.

He clung to walls and spaces like he was trying to be unobtrusive. Melting away because he carried so much guilt – Chris found himself seeking Josh out, when he tried to melt to the deep red of their bedroom walls or into the couch or between the sheets. Or now, when he was sitting in the window, the jerryrigged alcove claimed all to himself; he was wrapped in a blanket and had pillows propped between himself and the wall, and was staring out at the world. Normally he read or maybe watched movies. Today he seemed to have been flipping through his phone and listening to music as he enjoyed the time to himself.

Cold and rainy weather. Things were different, out here. Out east. There was something comforting about the lower temperatures and the changes in season, even if Chris missed California painfully. He couldn't go back, though. Because Josh couldn't go back. And Josh, for all that they struggled, was more important than California summers and In-N-Out and authentic Mexican food trucks.

God, Chris missed those trucks. There were trucks in Richmond, but not like the ones in California, and he hadn't found them with Mexican food. Some day, he'd call up old friends, get some recipes, give Josh a night at home far away from home.

Well, not away from home. An old home in a new. Richmond was fine, if foggy, and the weather was strange. There weren't clear boundaries between the upscale sections of the city and the impoverished ones. One minute you were on Carytown and enjoying shops and dining and all that noise and the next you were looking at crumbling, ancient Pepsi advertisements and boarded up shops and triangle shaped buildings that probably should have been condemned years ago.

Their apartments were nice. They overlooked the James. Expensive, as far as Chris knew; he didn't know the exact price, because it was Josh's parents that paid for it. They lived a few floors above. Not the same kind of luxury the Washington family was used to, but Josh was what mattered to them.

It was admirable, really, how devoted they were. Chris supposed that having only Josh left in the world after his sisters' deaths outweighed the lower-tier luxury they were stuck with.

Josh perked up as Chris stepped through the door. He didn't have a job, but he went out sometimes. For now it was mostly getting accustomed to the city. Sometimes it was to hang with a few guys he'd met, to get out and get air. Periodically it was to see the sights – the museums, the theaters, find what was interesting. Plan nights out with Josh.

Tonight was going to be a night out, but for now it was an afternoon in. The rain was steady falling and it was chilly outside; Chris shrugged out of his coat and kicked off his shoes, stepping into the bedroom where Josh spent most of his time.

“Hey,” he crossed the room as Josh turned, legs parting to accommodate Chris as he leaned over him and kissed him. Josh put his arms around his neck.

“Hey,” he said back when Chris broke away. “How was it?”

“It was okay. Jackson says hey,” he replied. He balanced himself on his knuckles, on either side of Josh's hips. He'd been craving him since last night, and he'd given Josh the usual hints – deeper kisses, longer touches at breakfast, kissing his neck when he left to go hang with Jackson and Tyreese. Things to let Josh build himself up, decide if he wanted Chris this afternoon or not.

Judging by the fact he'd practically spread his legs when Chris had stepped in and that he'd pulled out some necessary supplies, Chris would wager that was a yes.

Chris wasn't going to waste time. He'd been wanting Josh too badly all day, thinking about him. Even after all they'd gone through, even when he was at his lowest points, even when he was angry at Chris and himself for surviving where Beth and Hannah and Sam hadn't, when he rejected even gentle touches and kisses, even with all that – he was still the most exquisite creature in the world to Chris. Loving Josh felt natural, holy, pure, and from what little their shared therapist – more Josh's, but Chris would visit him once a month – had been allowed to relay to Chris, Josh felt just as deeply.

Chris would rather die than see Josh ever be hurt again. It kept him sane and it kept him healthy to devote time to Josh, and he knew Josh was flourishing under his care. It was a source of pride for him, though he knew better than to base his or Josh's whole worth off of what Chris could do for them. He just clicked better with Josh than he had with anyone else, even Ashley.

At least she knew that. At least she'd been supportive, and still was, and regularly sent them letters and emails and Skype'd them. They were too important to her to let go, she said, and Chris made sure she knew they both felt the same about her.

But for now, Josh was the only thing that he cared about. He let him know it, too, sinking into a deeper kiss as he reached between them to undo his pants; Josh slipped his arms from around Chris' neck and only broke the kiss to slip off his shirt. They stole smooches in between stripping, Chris moving faster due to standing. He made to help Josh with his sleeping pants and his underwear, loving how Josh wiggled his hips so Chris could slip them off.

Chris reached over beside the two of them. He uncapped the lube; he took Josh's hands in his, pouring a little on his fingers before putting a generous amount on his own. “You do me, I do you?” He said more than suggested, smiling into a kiss as Josh nodded, gasping, and lifted one of his legs to accommodate. He balanced his foot on the little stand that made up his cozy alcove, giving Chris all the access he needed as he slipped a finger inside of Josh.

Josh let out a soft gasp, hand tightening around Chris' cock. He gave slow jerks as Chris gave slow pumps, savoring their moments of peace and quiet. There was nothing between them but gasps and moans and the music soft in the background, and it was so painfully perfect Chris thought he would melt.

He wanted to tattoo these kinds of moments onto his body and remember them forever.

Eventually he pulled his fingers free of Josh and Josh put both heels up. Chris was careful, slow, guiding himself into Josh. When he was all the way in he paused to adjust a bit, hooking his arms under Josh's legs so he could use the window sill for leverage. Josh was smaller, bendier, and he responded by reaching forward and hooking his hands around Chris' neck, fingers folding together, threaded into Chris' hair.

Chris' first few thrusts were quick and short, letting Josh get adjusted to the feeling. When Josh's breathing grew heavier Chris adjusted quickly again, unlooping his arms and wrapping them around Josh's waist; his thrusts became even quicker, deeper; he changed pace sporadically, going from quick and rough thrusts to slow and deliberate, direct and exact to sloppy and borderline-unsatisfactory. He found the unusual pace left Josh positively thrilled and hearing him moaning Chris' name, punctuated occasionally with an “oh God” did more than enough for Chris.

Josh was perfect. Being inside him was like being inside of heaven and they both knew it; and Chris took full advantage of all of Josh's reactions. When Josh let out a whine, Chris responded by capturing his mouth with a kiss. When Josh twisted away, his head falling back exposing his throat, Chris would sink his teeth into it – gingerly, wary of the usual reactions biting caused; his favorite spot was the space where Josh's shoulder met his neck. It was just right to be hidden by shirts and sweaters, and Chris could leave lovebites there that blossomed like roses on Josh's skin.

He did just that now, sinking his teeth in and revealing in how loudly Josh cried out. He sobbed Chris' name and pulled him close and tight, begging and writing against him. The feel of his skin on Chris' skin and the way it forced Chris to take careful, shallow and methodical thrusts – rolling his hips ever so slightly, brushing against Josh's hips.

Chris knew Josh was close when he began desperately pushing his hips down to meet Chris' thrusts. He could be cruel, slow, could drag this out; but they had a weekend for that ahead of them. Instead he was kind, reaching between them to take Josh into hand, pressing as close as he dared. Josh's hands had dropped to Chris' shoulders and then his back, his blunted nails raking deep as he dared into Chris' skin.

Chris came before Josh. He liked it that way; Josh loved being filled up, loved the idea of it more than any potential feeling. When Josh realized Chris had cum he whined, writhing even more, practically crying for Chris. Chris caught him in a kiss again and set about making him come undone, still buried deeply in him. When Josh finally came a scant minute after Chris did it was with a shudder and a relieved sob, hooking his legs around Chris' waist and pulling him close.

“Fuck,” Chris pressed his face to Josh's neck. He wanted more of him, he always did, but that would settle in a few minutes. He let Josh take control now, deciding when he was ready to be moved; and Chris pulled out, letting Josh cling to him as tightly as he could. He took Josh to the bathroom, his own limbs feeling more like rubber than he cared to admit. He would _never_ let Josh know that weakness in him – the feeling was good and it always doubled the relief he got from finally setting Josh down in the tub.

He pulled back, kneeling on the floor. It was easier this way; he could grab two towels from under the sink, start the water for a bath, lazily hoist himself into the tub behind Josh as the water reached the temperature they both liked. They both liked it a little more hot than needed. Not hot enough to burn them, but hot enough to make them a little too warm. The only thing Chris did differently from a normal shared bath was push Josh forward so he could stand up and grab the showerhead to rinse them both off. Soaking was all well and good, but the body fluids that would come off of them would likely ruin it.

Josh let him rinse him clean, then settled back into Chris' arms when he deemed them rinsed enough to be reattach the showerhead and plug up the stopper.

“That was great,” he whispered, turning his head slightly to bury it into Chris' neck. Chris wrapped his arms around Josh tightly, sighing to himself.

“You're great,” he returned, kissing his forehead. Josh smiled, and didn't open his eyes, but repeated Chris' words back to him.

“Love you,” he said after a moment, once the water was turned off and they had a moment to soak.

“Love you too,” Chris returned. Josh was practically asleep in his arms, though they both knew he knew better than to nap in the tub, even with Chris present. It was just a short soak to relax them both.

But Chris loved it. He loved these moments. Life seemed less stressful, after the mountain. Very little could upset him save for Josh being in distress. But Chris was going to do everything in his power to make sure that never, ever happened again. He made it his quiet promise to Josh, and their departed friends. Josh would be safe, with or without him, so long as Chris drew breath – and after it, if any god up in the skies was willing to allow him.

He wasn't gonna let him go. Not any time soon. Maybe not ever. And that was all that mattered.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me for more soft depression at http://mtblackwood.tumblr.com/


End file.
